


I'm Not Crazy, I'm Just Fond of You

by devil_wears_winchester (Joyd)



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: M/M, Male Solo, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 04:12:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4465040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joyd/pseuds/devil_wears_winchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slightly different take on a tumblr idea:<br/><i>“So we’ve never met but our showers are on opposite sides of the same apartment wall so sometimes we’re showering at the same time and we sing duets.” AU</i><br/><i>Also; “sometimes we’re showering at the same time and I can hear you moaning”</i></p><p> </p><p>Kimblee you shameless harlot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not Crazy, I'm Just Fond of You

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in a _very_ long time, so please be gentle, but if you see any mistakes please let me know. I'm notorious for skipping words or rearranging them oddly.  
>  Ah, and I might write more for this little pocket universe later, we'll see if I've expended my ability to write for the year with this one.
> 
>  
> 
> Oh, and, uh, we're operating under the fantasy that Miles never told us he was married/that he isn't. Just for pwp's sake.

The walls between bedrooms in the base are thin, a sharp contrast from the outer walls which are made to keep out both enemies and the cold. Miles has never had a problem with this, but he's also never had a neighbor to the right of his assigned room before. It just so happens that the right side of his room is where the bathroom is, with the shower against the far wall.

Which wasn't even worth thinking about before he got a neighbor, a neighbor whose shower shares that wall. This, too, would have been ignorable if his neighbor wasn't Zolf J. Kimblee, who Miles is assigned to babysit. Meaning that if the Crimson Lotus alchemist is in his room, Miles is inevitably in his own, which gives them both a limited window to shower in.

Those thin walls were going to be the death of him.

It doesn't help that Kimblee is _loud_ , and not just when he's caterwauling some nonsensical song. Oh no, Miles could ignore the "singing" -difficult though it might be-, but there is simply no ignoring the moaning. He's tried, oh has he tried, but the alchemist is loud and _shameless_ , and Miles can't tell if he _knows_ and is doing it to mess with him, or if he really doesn't know how thin the walls are. It's not like Miles is particularly loud when he showers, and certainly not enough to be heard over Kimblee's cacophony and draw attention to himself.

As it is, he has the choice between getting up even earlier to shower while Kimblee sleeps, or keep with his years long routine of showering before bed. So far, the embarrassment of hearing Kimblee every once in a while hasn't been enough to drag him from his bed in the early hours. Tonight, however, may break him, as Kimblee manages to be even _louder_. Normally it's just the occasional moan, sometimes an especially obscene groan, but nothing overly explicit.

Not this time.

No, tonight Kimblee seems to be pulling out all the stops to be as obscene as humanly possible. Miles is just about ready to make his escape, shampoo in his hair be damned, when what is quite possibly the most raunchy thing he's ever heard reaches his ears.

" _Miles._ "

It takes all his considerable poise not to slip as he whips back around to stare at the wall. Weeks of practice ignoring these "shows" do nothing for him as his body takes an immediate interest in this new development. His thoughts are a mess as he tries to justify what he just heard, that he imagined it or that Kimblee is definitely just fucking with him -to which some small part of himself whispers _'Oh he **will** be.'_

All his focus has suddenly narrowed down to the man on the other side of the wall, to the uneven sound of water on tile and the hitching moans if a low voice. He's just managed to force himself to turn and rinse the suds from his hair, all focus still on Kimblee, when he hears it again.

"Fuck, oh fuck, _MILES._ "

There's no denying the interest his body has taken now. Flushing guiltily and glowering down at his traitorous cock, he slides his hand down his stomach, listening to his neighbor's rasping groans and wondering how it's possible for him to _still be going_ as Miles gasps softly. The feeling of his own hand wrapping around his dick has never been this intense before, but rarely has he ever had someone putting on such a show nearby.

The sound of water on tile and Kimblee's moans are enough to let him imagine what's going on next door, picture it clearly as he leans his forearm against the wall and his forehead against that. How Kimblee is likely in a similar position, pale back bent under the water and long hair hanging around his face as he strokes himself. Or would he have his back to the wall, head bent to block the spray as he uses both hands on himself?

He has to bite his lip to stifle his own low moan, thumb sliding over the slick head of his cock as he listens. He'll never live it down if Kimblee hears him, so he has to be as quiet as he can and finish quickly. The second part won't be a problem with how long it's been, but the opposite can be said for the first, especially listening to Kimblee moan his name like _that_.

There's no ignoring the quickening moans and gasps coming from next door, no way to miss the way Kimblee whimpers even through the wall and over the sounds of two showers. Miles has to bite into the meat of his arm to muffle the moan that tries to escape as he squeezes his cock, thumb sliding up and over the head to press _just so_ under the crown, hips jerking into his fist as he cums over the clench of his fingers.

It takes a moment to regain his senses, vision having whited out briefly and legs shaking with the effort to remain standing. His arm is going to be one big bruise later, not to mention where his teeth managed to break the skin, but his uniform will hide that easily. So long as no one grabs him he’ll be fine, and with how unlikely that is it shouldn’t be a problem.

Because of his focus on himself the silence from the other side of the wall takes a moment to register, the sound of water on tile absent and the moans of the previous occupant missing.

Already he can feel the hair on the back of his neck standing up, mirroring him as he quickly straightens up to rinse off so he can make his escape as the implications set in. There's no way Kimblee could have known what he was doing, even if he knew Miles could hear him, but that doesn't reassure him as much as he'd like. There’s no way he has time to make a proper escape, but maybe he can make it seem like he’s been finished for longer than he has.

It only takes him a few minutes to get out of the shower & wrap a towel around his waist, but that's enough time for someone to arrive and knock on his door. He actually jumps in fright, having worked himself up to a true panic, and it takes him a moment to regain his composure and answer the door, knowing even before he can hope it won't be that the Crimson Lotus alchemist is on the other side.

Sure enough, Zolf J. Kimblee is grinning up at him when he opens the door, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist as his hair drips water all down the hall floor.

'He's going to catch pneumonia like that.' It's a quiet, resigned-to-his-mortified-fate sort of thought, the rest of his focus too busy trying not to blush like a fresh-faced recruit over the Major General in the face of Kimblee's knowing grin.

"Y'know, _Miles_ , it'd save water if we just showered together. Especially if we're going to spend so long in there." No man should be able to sound that confident and flirtatious while shivering in a towel in the freezing Briggs air, it's simply not allowed. But here they are, both rapidly freezing with dripping hair and the last vestiges of climax clinging to their minds in foggy relaxation.

It takes him just a second to make his decision before he reaches out, curling a large hand around Kimblee's arm and dragging him into his room. If they're going to freeze, there's no need to do so in the open doorway, especially when the door can be put to better use against Kimblee's back.


End file.
